


Maybe You're Too Far Away

by Thatsrightmyhype



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternative Setting: 1980s, Angst, Bittersweet, Coming of Age, Drunk Dancing, F/M, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Italian Summers, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, The Iconic Peach Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatsrightmyhype/pseuds/Thatsrightmyhype
Summary: It's 1983 and Max knows his perfect Italian Summer is going to be interrupted by the arrival of his father’s writing apprentice Daniel. What he doesn’t know is just how quickly, deeply and madly in love he’ll fall for the man, despite the looming time limit on their relationship.“It’s a shame you won’t dance,’ he says after a moment of surprisingly comfortable silence, ‘I’d love to see the way you move.”Max’s head whips around to face him, only to find him still staring out towards the makeshift dance floor. Feeling the younger man’s eyes on him, he turns and stares, eyes half-lidded and lip tilted in the corner.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Dilara Sanlik/Max Verstappen
Comments: 30
Kudos: 85





	1. Before

Max groans loudly as he’s pulled from a blissful sleep by the already too-warm Italian sunlight streaming through a gap in his curtains. He’s sure he pulled them fully closed last night, having suffered this exact problem the previous morning but, after checking his alarm, he supposes he really should just get up and start his day regardless. After stretching across his sheets and shaking the last tendrils of sleep from his bones, the young man stands and makes his way over to the small basin in the corner of the room. The water is freezing but it’s a refreshing contrast to the stifling humidity of his bedroom.

Although Max enjoys his family’s trips to Italy, he’s normally happy to get home at the end of the Summer. He understands that sounds ignorant or ungrateful but Max has never been too keen on hot weather, preferring the man-made warmth of a roaring fire and a cosy blanket over unregulated sunlight. Throwing on an only-slightly crumpled linen shirt and pair of shorts, he makes his way down the creaking stairs of the converted farmhouse to the kitchen and finds his mother and sister at the kitchen bar, enjoying a cup of tea and some homemade scones.

“Glad you decided to join us,’ his mother teases, standing up to press a kiss to his cheek and although he bats her away, it’s half-hearted at best, ‘There’s tea in the pot on the stove.”

Max helps himself and takes a seat, grabbing half a scone and slathering it in strawberry jam.

“Don’t forget Maxy,’ his sister Victoria says with a sly grin, ‘Daniel is coming today.”

Max stops mid chew to look at his mother who raises an eyebrow back at him.

“Don’t tell me you forgot already,’ she chides, rolling her eyes at Max’s uninterested shrug, ‘He’s the son of one of your father’s associates. He’s coming to stay with us to be your father’s assistant while he works on his new book?”

Max nods slowly in return, vaguely remembering something being said the previous day about one of his father’s friends and his over-active son. To be honest Max tends to tune out these conversations, not wanting to listen to his father talk business and all the gory details of whatever his next novel may be. Jos used to take pleasure in making Max squirm as a child by detailing all the gruesome murders and bloody crime scenes he used as inspiration for his thriller stories. ‘You have to get used to it Max,’ he would say, as Max held back tears and nodded, desperate for approval, ‘one day you’re going to follow in my footsteps and you can’t show that anything bothers you, not even to me’.

Max has tried to squash that constant need for approval and praise that he craved as a child after hearing constantly from his father how he was destined for greatness. He tries now to compartmentalise, to not feel the burning weight of his father’s legacy on his shoulders but he still can’t help the glowing pride in his chest at a compliment or the searing disappointment when he knows he’s failed.

He’s not sure what his father’s assistant will be like, but if he’s anything like his own father, Max knows he’ll keep his distance.

“I’m going to meet Dilara,’ Max says hastily, stuffing the rest of the sticky scone into his mouth and hastily wiping the crumbs from the kitchen surface into his hand, ‘So I’ll meet him later.”

“Oh, alright,’ his mother says softly, clearly a little disappointed, ‘Just make sure you’re home in time for dinner.”

“Of course,’ Max says, emptying the crumbs into the bin then pressing another kiss to his mother’s cheek before exiting the kitchen.

Walking through the front of the house towards the walls that encase the property, Max inhales the fresh morning air deeply into his lungs and exhales his anxieties. He feels a little more on edge than he did before, wary that soon another body will be entering the house, upsetting the equilibrium of his family. He shakes his hands, trying to expel his worries through his fingertips and decides he’s going to try and forget all about Daniel’s arrival until he actually has to socialise with him.

As he reaches the wall, he spots Dilara elegantly leaning against the gate and looking out to the view beyond the farmhouse. Although he can’t see her face, Max knows that her almost-permanent smile is in place from the relaxed curve of her shoulders and the hand that’s playfully twisting a lock of hair between two fingers.

He’s known Dilara for years, first meeting her when the pair of them were children and their parents would leave them to play in the garden while they sipped on cocktails at the kitchen island. Although it had taken Max a while to overcome his initially shyness, the two had become firm friends over the years and spent the resulting Summers riding their bikes through the Italian countryside and eating so much ice-cream they could barely stand.

Max softens his steps as he approaches her, silently getting closer. When he’s within reach, he places his hands over her eyes before shouting “Guess who?!” Into her ear.

“Max you asshole,’ she says, turning around and swatting him hard on the arm but the smile is still present, ‘You scared me!”

“That was the joke,’ he replies, letting himself through the gate and looping her arm through his own, ‘Ready for an adventure?”

“Always,’ she replies, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walk down the path towards town.

*

When Max returns home in the late afternoon, the first thing he notices is the sound of vibrant laughter from around the side of the house. He follows the noise feeling mildly confused: although his family are not entirely miserable, it’s rare for anyone to express such exuberant joy in their company. Rounding the corner, Max spots the rest of his family sat around the outdoor table, crystal glasses of red wine in their hands and right at the head of the table is the man Max assumes is Daniel.

His curly hair bounces as he throws his head back in another loud laugh at something Victoria said and his chestnut eyes are narrowed attractively in mirth. They turn to focus on Max who is rooted to the spot by the blindingly white smile now being sent in his direction as his mother finally notices his presence.

“Ah Max, you’re back just in time, I was just about to serve dinner,’ she says, leading him around to the empty seat on Daniel’s left before almost having to manhandle him into his chair, ‘This is Daniel.”

“Dan’s fine,’ the man says, smiling brightly at Max’s mother before turning back to the young man, ‘It’s nice to put a face to the name. Victoria here has been telling me all about you.”

Max immediately turns to his sister who widens her eyes innocently.

“I hope she didn’t say anything too incriminating,’ Max says, looking down at the table setting to avoid a blush developing at the sight of that damn grin.

That turns out to be a mistake because now through the glass of the table top he sees Dan’s shorts riding up his leg to reveal a plethora of multi-coloured tattoos. He decides to look up at his father instead, a safe bet.

“Did you get much writing done today?’ He asks him, attempting to steer the conversation away from himself.

Jos shrugs, taking a sip of wine. He already looks a little tired and distant and Max can’t help but shrink away a little when the man’s eyes look up from the rim of his glass to him.

“We’ve just been settling Daniel in today really,’ Jos says, ‘We’ll be starting work properly tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,’ Dan says with a smaller, less wild smile than the one he had been sporting before and not correcting him on calling him his full name, ‘It’ll be so interesting to learn from you Jos.”

Max’s father smiles at that, tipping his drink in Dan’s direction and Max feels a strange tinge of unnecessary jealously run through him.

“Here you go everyone,’ Sophie says, returning from inside the house with enormous cheese and meat platters in hand, closely followed by Giovanna the housekeeper with two baskets of freshly baked bread.

“Grazie,’ Max says politely when she places a delicious-looking roll onto his side plate, instantly reaching for it as soon as she pulls her hand away.

“Did you not eat much while you were out?’ His mother questions him just as he’s about to pop a piece into his mouth.

“Mostly ice-cream,’ he replies, feeling his stomach grumble at the fact he has food in his hand but politeness dictates that he doesn’t speak with his mouth full, ‘And Dilara made some sandwiches but that was hours ago now.”

His mother tsks but there’s still an endeared smile on her face as she signals for them all to get stuck in.

“Mm, this is absolutely gorgeous Sophie,’ Daniel exclaims after wrapping a piece of cheese in Parma ham and popping it into his mouth.

“Thanks Dan but all I can really take credit for is putting it on the plate.”

“Ah, well wonderfully arranged then,’ he says with another vibrant smile and Max doesn’t know what he’s more horrified about; his mother’s rosy blush or the tiny pang of jealousy that flows through him once more.

“So Dan, what makes you want to learn more about writing?’ Victoria asks on Max’s left, propping her head up on one hand and tilting her head with a slightly dreamy look on her face.

Max wants to vomit.

“Well I love learning about people, getting to know what makes them tick,’ he starts and for a second, he catches Max’s eye before fully focusing on Victoria, ‘My dad has been in publishing his whole life and I always thought it was so cool how he got to read all these stories and work with such interesting people so I’ve always wanted to go into that.”

“Family business,’ Max’s father says approvingly, ‘Maybe you’ll be able to convince Max to do the same with me.”

“Do you not write at all?’ Daniel asks, eyes curious but smile kind.

“I write a little bit,’ Max says, choosing his words carefully, ‘I just get stuck for inspiration sometimes.”

He really doesn’t want them to know about the pages and pages of partly-finished epic romance stories he keeps in his many notebooks. 

“Well if you’re going to find inspiration anywhere, it must be here,’ Daniel says, gesturing to the beautiful garden and mountainous views beyond their little patch of land.

“I guess,’ Max says, resisting the urge to bite his lip in nervousness.

They finish their meal without the conversation being steered in Max’s direction once again. As soon as his father indicates the meal is over, Max is standing up and quickly making his way to his bedroom, in need of some peace and quiet to help him collect his thoughts. However, as soon as he steps into his bedroom, he can feel that someone has been in there. He looks to the chair by the vanity desk and sees an obnoxiously patterned shirt that definitely doesn’t belong to him slung over it. He does have an idea of whose it might be though. Without even thinking, his hand reaches towards the shirt, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers.

“Sorry for not letting you know earlier,’ says a voice from the door and Max has never dropped anything as quickly in his life as he turns around to face Dan, ‘Your mum said I could have your room because of the desk so you’ll have to move next door.”

Dan looks a little sheepish, standing in the doorway with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his head. Max’s eyes automatically sweep down to where his tattoos now barely poke out the bottom of his shorts before mentally slapping himself and meeting Dan’s eyes once again.

“Did they already move my things?’ He asks, knowing that it comes out sounding a bit cold.

“They haven’t moved anything yet,’ Dan says with a friendly smile that makes Max feel like a bad person for almost snapping at him, ‘Do you want a hand?”

“It’s okay,’ Max says quickly as he begins to gather his things, ‘I’ve got it covered.”

Dan nods but continues to stand in the doorway, eyes following Max around the room as he gathers his things and moves them through their joined bathroom to the smaller bedroom next door. He can feel the stare burning into the back of his neck and he tries to ignore it in favour of moving his possessions out of their cupboards and drawers as quickly as possible. He walks between their rooms, passing by the shower and toilet in the bathroom that connects their bedrooms about five times each way before everything is finally out.

“Well goodnight,’ Max says as he picks up the final haphazard pile of clothes and carries them through the bathroom, closing the door hastily with his foot as soon as he crosses the threshold.

Clothing still in arms, he collapses against the door, resting his head against the wood and breathing heavily through his nose. He looks around at the panicked piles of his belongings dumped on the floor then to the made-up mattress resting on the floor and sighs. He can already feel the weight of this long, long Summer.

*

Max is awoken the next morning by faint singing coming from the bathroom. He lies in bed, listening to the slightly wobbly notes that are still pushed out with confidence and can’t help but roll his eyes: he hasn’t even known Dan for twenty-four hours and this already feels like typical behaviour. Climbing out of bed, Max rummages around in his newly filled chest of drawers looking for an outfit for the day before sitting in front of the bathroom door, waiting for it to be silent. Eventually, Max hears the water stop running and Dan’s feet padding across creaking wood back into his room.

Max deems it safe to open the door on his side only to be met with the view of Dan stood in his room, door still open and completely naked. He’s facing away from him but there’s more than enough tanned skin for Max to stare at from the back. His shoulders are taught with muscle, shifting as he turns the shirt he’s holding around to inspect it while he taps one foot as if he’s impatient with himself. Those goddamn thigh tattoos are on full display and Max wants nothing more than to trace them with his fingertips. Suddenly Dan stills, looking up at the ceiling before moving as if he’s about to turn around.

Max averts his eyes and spins around, closing the door quickly behind him with a pounding heart. He prays to anyone who’s listening that Dan didn’t see him, or at least that he won’t call him out for staring. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game Max’ he says to himself, waiting for the telltale creak of feet on floorboards. Dan does eventually move but all Max hears is the sound of his door closing and the click of the handle moving into place. Max exhales before finally getting into the bathroom.

Once he’s done, he heads to the garden for breakfast. As per usual, everyone else is already up before him, sipping tea and tucking into a huge bowl of fruit salad.

“Good morning Max,’ his mother greets him cheerily as he takes a seat, ‘How did you sleep in the new room?”

Max can’t help his eyes flicking to Dan who is glancing back at him out of the corner of his eye. He winks and Max feels his cheeks beginning to heat once more.

“Fine,’ he replies, piling fruit salad into the bowl in front of him in the hopes that if his mouth is always full, no-one will ask him any questions.

Talk continues around him about the annual party his parents hold in at the house and which of their local friends they’ll be inviting. Max doesn’t pay much attention until his mother suggests he invites Dilara, inviting a sly eyebrow from Dan.

“Ah, to be young,’ he says cryptically, smiling widely as Max looks away with a blush.

“It’s not like that, we’re just friends,’ he says which he knows is true but his mother just tuts.

“Come on now Max,’ says his father, looking at him for the first time all morning, ‘She’s a great catch, you probably couldn’t get much better.”

Max rolls his eyes but he notices his mother purse her lips together as she starts helping Giovanna clear the table. He’s been noticing that a lot lately; small moments where his mother obviously is holding her tongue. He knows his parents have had their rough patches but he hopes they can work out whatever it is between them. Suddenly sitting at the table is too stifling and he has to get away.

“I’ll see you later,’ he says hastily, making his way inside to grab his shoes and satchel before making a beeline for the gate.

He picks up his bike from where it’s been padlocked and cycles through country lanes he’s travelled hundreds of times before. Eventually he has to get off of his bike and walk, making his way through long grasses and almost tripping over the gnarled roots of ancient trees. Finally he reaches his destination, a clearing right next to the babbling river. The trees have opened up and the unobscured view of miles of countryside against the backdrop of white-tipped mountains makes him let out a little sigh of contentment.

Taking off his sweat-soaked shirt and shoes, he sits and wiggles his toes into the earth with closed eyes. He’s always found this place very grounding, ever since his parents first took him as a young child to paddle in the shallow water. There’s something about the way the trees curl protectively around the clearing that makes him feel safe and even though they haven’t been there as a family in years, Max will make the journey out on his own multiple times throughout the Summer.

Taking a seat on the soft grass, he takes out his notebook and a pen, flicking through pages of neatly written words to find a blank page. He looks back out at the blue horizon one last time before putting his pen to paper.

Max has always loved writing, definitely in part because of growing up around a well-known author but also because of his over-active imagination. A natural introvert, Max had found it difficult to express his feelings out loud for most of his life but with writing, his words seemed to flow straight through him. He starts today by describing the scenery around him which inspires a list of words that could replace the adjective ‘beautiful’. He continues that for a while, listing synonyms, describing the combinations of sounds around him then once he’s warmed up, he starts to write from his heart.

He barely thinks of the words as he transcribes his own thoughts, not stopping to second-guess himself or criticise. He just writes.

He only stops when the shady patch he’s been sat in is invaded by sunlight, an indicator that it’s well into the afternoon now. Moving a little to rest his back against a tree, he flicks through his notebook to where he started, scanning over the words. There’s a lot about dark curly hair. He shuts the pages abruptly before chancing another peek and continuing to read through. Fortunately the more he reads, the more diluted the descriptions of a person who is obviously Dan are but he can’t help shifting on the grass feeling a little uncomfortable.

He stops reading through his notes to eat the haphazardly put-together ham sandwich he made for himself and to take a long gulp from his water bottle, barely having noticed his thirst beforehand. He shifts closer to the river bank and watches a group of ducks pass by, their noisy quacks joining the cacophony of other riverside sounds. He wishes he felt as at peace here as he usually did but that niggling anxiety remains in the pit of his stomach.

“Everything is going to change,’ Max whispers to the river.

A small bubble bursting on the surface is all he gets as a reply.

*

Cycling home is a task Max wishes he’d thought of doing either before or after the hottest part of the day. By the time he gets back in the late afternoon he is a melting mess of a human being. He wishes good afternoon to his mother and sister drinking tea in the garden before making his way upstairs to use his shower. Once he’s free of the sticky sensation of sweat, Max makes his way into his bedroom with his towel wrapped around his waist, only to open a drawer and find it full of Dan’s clothes.

Remembering that they had in fact swapped rooms, he goes to make a hasty exit, only to notice a pair of crazily patterned cotton trunks slung over the dressing table chair. He breathes out a laugh at first before picking them up. He argues in his head that he’s just assessing the over-the-top pattern but as he carefully traces the yellow swirls set against deep navy, he knows this would be difficult to explain if anyone walked in.

He thinks about Dan wearing them, laughing in the sun as he pulls Max towards the river. He visualises tugging them down slender, tanned hips to reveal what’s underneath and Max is just realising that Dan’s dick has been against this fabric, has rubbed against it and, although that’s obvious, Max finds himself to be slightly hard. He squeezes his legs together, trying to relieve some pressure but it’s impossible, the lick of heat dislodging the anxiety in the pit of his stomach for a brief moment. Without thinking too much, he holds the trunks up to his nose and inhales deeply, feeling a jolt of electricity run through his veins at the nature of the line he’s crossing.

He gently puts his free hand on his crotch that’s barely covered by his towel and whimpers at the contact, pressing harder as he accepts that this is something he’s actually going to do. He allows the towel to fall and begins to jerk himself off as slowly as he can (which when he’s so keyed up is quite difficult). He inhales sharply once more, groaning at the effort needed to make this last longer than thirty seconds. He pictures Dan coming in and seeing him like this, needy and whining over a pair of pants and a simultaneous wave of shame and arousal shoot through him. He comes, biting his lip to contain any more embarrassing sounds from escaping.

Once the aftershocks begin to wane, all he feels is empty. Empty and ashamed. He looks at the trunks again, crumpled from how tightly he’d held them in his fist and wants to burn them. He places them back on the chair as neatly as he’d found them, picks up his towel and makes a beeline for the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind him in his haste. He collapses against it, feeling nothing but turmoil inside.

*

Max doesn’t see much of Dan in the oncoming days. At first he was avoiding him, not even being able to look into his eyes knowing that he did what he did. However, it seems that Jos is actually taking his job seriously and putting Dan to work as a result. The pair of them are up before breakfast and barely make it to dinner before Max’s father is dragging his young assistant to a local bar to celebrate their progress.

Max tries not to be bothered as this was the whole reason Dan came to stay with them in the first place but he can’t help feeling like an outsider. He tries to distract himself from his feelings by going to the river to write and meeting up with Dilara and some other boys his age he’s gotten to know from vacationing in the same place every Summer. Max enjoys hanging out with Lando, Alex and George a lot but he finds his thoughts always drift back to Dan.

While Max has been antagonising over his feelings and Dan and Jos have been working, Sophie and Victoria have been planning their annual party. It takes Max by surprise when they tell him it’s that very evening but he supposes he’s just not been paying enough attention to all their conversations.

“Have you invited Dilara?’ His mother asks in a voice that’s meant to be casual but still comes out a little teasingly.

“How was I meant to invite her when I didn’t even realise it was today?’ Max huffs.

“Max,’ Victoria chides in a teasing tone, flicking him on the ear in a very sibling-like way as she walks past, ‘You better invite her. Be a gentleman.”

Max rolls his eyes but agrees anyway. He goes to meet Dilara shortly afterwards, finding her in her usual spot by the gate just watching the sky. Her profile is beautiful and the smile she sends Max’s way once she spots him warms him more than the Italian sun. They cycle into town to grab some ice-cream and walk around, finally settling by a fountain in the town square.

“So I know it’s short notice but do you want to come to my parent’s party tonight? I can’t say it will be any good but I think they’ve got enough wine to get all of Italy drunk so it could be fun,’ he says, smiling at her.

“You finally asked,’ she says, nudging his foot with her own, ‘I was beginning to wonder when you’d work up the balls.”

Max smiles, feeling a little confused at the wording. Dilara sees the furrowing of his brow and rolls her eyes.

“I’m only joking Max,’ she says before smiling shyly, ‘I would love to go to your parent’s party with you.”

Oh. OH. Max realises what he sounded like but can’t bring himself to say anything. How can he when Dilara is smiling like that at him? He’s not sure why she likes him so much when he’s so awkward in his own skin but she’s always been such a stable presence through all of the Summers he’s spent in Italy, maybe this is an inevitable course they’re destined for? He is a boy after all and she’s a girl. An image of Dan’s electric smile pops into his head and he instantly feels a jolt in his stomach.

“What’s the dress code?’ Dilara asks, pulling Max out of his thoughts as she slips and arm through his.

“Um, I think it’s smart casual,’ he says, trying to remember any of the details of what Victoria lectured him about before, ‘Basically I will be wearing something similar to what I’ve got on now but I will iron it.”

Dilara laughs, tipping her head back and exposing her neck and although Max is definitely unsure of any of his feelings, he can’t help but gulp at the long expanse of skin.

“I understand,’ she says, directing her vision back to Max with another easy smile, ‘I’ll go and get my things together then. See you tonight!”

She presses a kiss to his cheek before leaving, throwing a smile behind her as she mounts her bike and cycles away. Max presses his hand to his cheek and can’t help but feel a strange mixture of uneasiness and excitement.

*

Max watches Dan dance and feels like he’s on fire.

It’s well into the party now, everyone having had their dinner and a few drinks and now feeling confident enough to throw out a few dance moves in front of everyone. Jos and Sophie had managed to dig out their record player and the songs jump from one era to the next but someone is always dancing. Max needs about three more beers if he’s going to be anywhere near as confident to do that but it seems that Dan is immune to embarrassment as he shakes his hips and shimmies his shoulders in a way that is both comical and weirdly sexy.

He’s dancing next to Dilara and one of her friends that Max can never remember the name of despite seeing her every year. The friend is batting her eyelids and shimmying her chest in Dan’s direction while Dilara tries to push the two of them together and Max feels sick. Dilara looks over to him and gestures forward. He merely shakes his head with a tight smile and grabs another beer from the table next to him. Dilara pouts but continues to dance, her tiny orange sundress fluttering past her smooth thighs. Max tries to focus on the tanned skin in front of him, feeling like that’s what he should want but every time his concentration wanes, his eyes float back to Dan in his tiny shorts, tattoos on display.

He’s sort of given into Dilara’s friend’s advances now, gently placing his hands on her hips and swaying more than anything, twisting them around. He’s facing Max when suddenly they’re both staring at each other, not focusing on anything else. Max squirms in his seat, the memory of multi-coloured trunks pressed against his face coming to the forefront of his mind and causing him to flush. He looks away and takes another swig of his beer.

There’s a presence beside him and even before he turns his face to look, he knows it’s Dan.

“Do you not dance?’ He asks, taking a sip of his own beer on the table before slinging a casual arm around the back of Max’s chair.

“I’m not drunk enough to dance yet,’ Max replies, smiling as Dan throws his head back and laughs loudly.

Max’s back burns even though Dan isn’t even touching it. They both look out to the dance floor where Dilara and her friend have begun dancing with each other, just bouncing around and having fun. When they notice the two men looking they both wink, Dilara in a more ironic way than her friend. Dan waves at them with a smile before taking another sip of his beer.

“It’s a shame you won’t dance,’ he says after a moment of surprisingly comfortable silence, ‘I’d love to see the way you move.”

Max’s head whips around to face him, only to find him still staring out towards the makeshift dance floor. Feeling the younger man’s eyes on him, he turns and stares, eyes half-lidded and lip tilted in the corner. He looks to Max’s hands where he’s nursing a nearly full bottle of beer before his eyes return to his face.

“Finish your drink,’ he says quietly and Max obliges.

Dan does the same and before Max can think, he’s being pulled up by strong hands onto his feet. The hand stays loosely wrapped around his wrist and he swears before Dan moves away that he brushes his thumb over his pulse point.

He finds himself on the dance floor, Dilara in front of him with a wide smile and Dan to his back facing Dilara’s friend (he really should find out her name). Dilara begins to move to the music, taking Max’s hands and using them to twirl herself around. Max smiles, moving his hands to her hips and trying to move his own in time. He feels Dan’s presence at his back, the air that whooshes past him every time he moves his arms and the warmth of his body, so close but still so far.

Dilara loops her arms around Max’s neck and pulls him close, eyes entirely focused on him. Max closes his own and focuses on the sensations around him. When he’s undistracted he feels light and giddy from the beer but more grounded than he’s felt in a long, long time. Lips press against his and he responds, winding his arms further around the waist of the small body in front of him, sliding a hand up her bare back to entangle in her hair. He’s lost in the feeling of being so close to someone until Dan’s hand brushes against his back, pulling his attention away.

He pulls away from Dilara, giving her a smile and twirling her once more before turning them to look at Dan and what he’s doing. He’s holding Dilara’s friend close, seemingly whispering to her about something but every few seconds, his eyes flick to Max.

“Let’s go somewhere else,’ Max says suddenly to Dilara, not being able to look at the man in front of him any longer while he teases and cradles someone else.

“Okay,’ she agrees, tugging his hand and pulling him away from the dance floor.

Max chances one last look over his shoulder only to see Dan leaning in to press his and his date’s lips together. He turns away and follows Dilara into the trees.

*

“Where did you go last night?’ Victoria asks Max loudly over the dinner table at breakfast the next morning.

Max can feel himself flushing, especially when his mother gives him a particularly interested look but all he cares about is Dan’s reaction. His face is completely blank, except for his eyebrows frowning ever so slightly.

“What are you talking about?’ He asks, deciding to go on the defensive strategy, ‘I was in the garden the entire time.”

“I know that,’ Victoria says slowly as if speaking to an absolute idiot, ‘I mean did you just go to bed? One minute you were dancing and the next you were gone.”

Max narrows his eyes at Victoria, wondering if she’s being purposely obtuse. She arches an eyebrow at him, challenging.

“Frankly my dear sister, I don’t think it’s any of your business,’ he settles on, earning a laugh from everyone at the table except Victoria.

She just huffs and continues to pick at her toast before turning her questioning to Dan.

“Did you have fun with Mimi?’ She asks, eyes innocent but tone sly.

“Who’s Mimi?’ Max asks before Dan answers, earning a few incredulous stares.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?’ Victoria asks, rolling her eyes at Max’s blank look, ‘She’s only Dilara’s best friend. We see her every Summer? Are you saying you honestly didn’t know her name until right now?”

Ah. Well that’s that mystery solved. Max looks sheepishly at Dan who is very unsuccessfully trying not to laugh. Sensing that the conversation isn’t going to go in the dramatic fashion that she’d hoped, Victoria gives up on the interrogation and continues to eat her toast.

“You can take today off Daniel,’ Jos says suddenly over the top of his newspaper.

“Are you sure?’ Dan asks, sounding very surprised.

“Yeah, we’ve been working hard this week,’ he replies, looking up into Dan’s eyes with a sly look, ‘Maybe you can see if Mimi is free.”

Dan laughs but he sounds a little uncomfortable.

“Maybe,’ he replies, ‘But if you’re sure, I was thinking I might go swim in the river.”

“Oo, Max knows a great place, the one we used to go to when you two were babies,’ Sophie says and Max feels betrayed.

“Ah, is that where you always scurry off to?’ Dan asks with a cheeky smile.

“It might be,’ he replies, turning to look at his mother with an annoyed expression.

“Come on Max, I’ll pack you a nice lunch,’ Sophie says, standing up to press a kiss to Max’s head, ‘Dan’s barely seen any of Italy he’s been so busy helping your father, show him the good spots!”

Max looks at her and her kind eyes. He wonders a little why she’s so keen to get him out of the house but eventually he rolls his eyes and stands up.

“Okay,’ he says before turning to Dan, ‘But you need to get changed.”

“Can do bossman,’ Dan replies, standing up to dust the croissant crumbs off of the white chinos he’s wearing, ‘Lead the way.”

Max trudges up to his bedroom, mentally panicking about having to spend an entire day in such close proximity to Dan, especially after all the tension and jealous feelings he had the previous evening. He shakes his head and tries to put it out of his mind as he reaches his room and searches for a pair of swimming trunks. He looks up through the shared bathroom to see Dan walking around his own room in just his underwear before bending over to pick something off of the floor. Max almost jumps to the other side of his room in an attempt to get that painfully delicious view out of his eye line, his heart thumping.

‘Focus on yourself Max,’ he thinks to himself, resuming his search for his swim shorts on shaky legs. He stuffs them into his usual rucksack and pulls off the light shirt he’d decided on that morning in favour of an over-sized striped t-shirt.

“Ready to go?’ Comes a voice from the bathroom doorway and Max whips around, clutching the t-shirt to his bare chest.  
Dan’s smiling at him with a raised eyebrow, non-verbally asking why Max isn’t still putting his shirt on. Trying to expose as little of his chest as possible, Max pulls the garment over his head, body bent at the waist. When he emerges from the fabric, he swears that Dan is at least a metre closer but he doesn’t allow himself to think too much as he hastily leads the way out of the room and down the stairs.

Sophie packs them off with sandwiches, drinks and snacks and they’re on their way.

Dan rides a little bit behind Max, just a few metres or so, but he can feel the older man’s presence as if he were stuck to his back. They don’t speak much on the thirty minute cycle ride over; Max just directs Dan if they have to turn off certain lanes. Eventually they hop off their bikes and walk to the clearing.

“Wow,’ Dan says when they teach their final destination, dumping his bike and walking to the edge of the water to admire the view beyond, ‘this is so pretty!”

Max snorts.

“You help authors all day and the best word you can come up with is pretty?’ He asks.

“Alright then clever clogs, the view is splendid,’ he says, shooting back a grin, ‘Maybe even stupendous.”

Max laughs before settling into the grass and pulling out his notebook.

“Are you not swimming?’ Dan asks as he pulls off his shirt and shucks his shoes.

“And spend the rest of the afternoon feeling moist? No thank you,’ Max says, resolutely not looking up from his notebook to check Dan’s reaction.

“Suit yourself,’ is his reply and before Max knows it, he’s being picked up by the waist and walked towards the river over Dan’s shoulder before he adds, ‘And don’t say the word moist.”

“Put me down Dan!’ He shouts, thumping his back but he’s laughing so hard he can barely get the words out.

“Alright,’ he says, ‘Be careful what you wish for!”

Before he can say anything else, Dan has flung him into the river. He stands up straight away, rubbing his eyes as if to check that that actually happened. Dan’s biting his lip as if he knows what he’s done may have crossed a line but he can’t help but find it funny anyway.

“Get in here you fucker and dunk me like a real man!’ Max yells, stripping his t-shirt and throwing it onto the banks, raising his fists in a mocking fighting gesture.

“Oh, it is so on!’ Dan says jumping into the water and making as big a splash as physically possible.

They continue splashing and attempting to dunk each other for about twenty minutes before Dan calls it quits, crawling up the bank to sprawl on his back in the sun. Max follows him, feeling smug.

“Are you finished old man?’ He asks with a shit-eating grin.

“Not that old,’ Dan manages to huff out but his eyes are closed and he looks ready to pass out.

Max takes a seat next to him and leans back on his hands, looking out to the incredible view.

“I thought you really hated me,’ Dan says suddenly, ‘So this is nice.”

Max feels himself blush.

“I never hated you,’ he says, ripping up some grass and twisting the blades in his hands.

“That’s good to hear,’ Dan says softly and when Max turns to look at him, he’s giving him a kind smile.

Max smiles back before copying Dan and laying down. Stretching his arms above his head he settles in the sun. He must fall asleep because he wakes up shivering a little, the sun having passed over their spot by the river. He stretches once more then turns to face Dan who is propped up on his elbow, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

“What?’ Max asks, trying to resist the urge to cover himself.

“Is Dilara your girlfriend?’ He asks and out of everything Max expected him to say, that was the absolute dead last thing.

“Um, no, she’s one of my childhood friends,’ Max says before raising an eyebrow, ‘Is Mimi yours?”

Dan laughs loudly.

“Not quite Maxy,’ he says, patting Max on the head with his free hand, ‘Maybe you’ll work it all out when you’re older.”

Max slaps him half heartedly on the arm, causing Dan to burst out laughing again.

“Come on, let’s get back,’ Dan says, ‘Your mum said to be back for dinner right?”

Max stands up and brushes the blades of grass imbedded into his skin away. He pulls on his still damp t-shirt over his head, wincing at the feeling of the fabric sticking to his skin. Dan starts to giggle.

“Hey, stop laughing, this is completely your fault,’ he says, pointing a finger in Dan’s direction.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,’ Dan says, slinging his arm over Max’s shoulders and pulling him into a side hug, ‘I mean it was pretty fucking funny but I am entirely apologetic, I swear.”

Max gives him one more tiny push before leading him back to the road, bikes in tow.

The ride home is more amicable than the ride to the river, with Max asking Dan about the work he does for his dad and him being quizzed on his future plans.

“I want to write,’ he says, looking down at the road instead of into Dan’s intensely curious eyes, ‘Not thrillers like my dad but...Um, I really like writing epic adventures with big romances. Proper cliched stuff but with new twists.”

“Maxy, that sounds awesome,’ Dan says and Max can tell by the genuine tone of voice that he does actually mean it, ‘Seriously, you should go for it. I’d love to read anything you’ve written, if that’s okay.”

“That’s nice Dan but I don’t think I’m quite ready for anyone to see any of my work yet,’ Max replies, wondering why it’s so easy to talk to Dan about things that he’s not said out loud before.

Dan merely shrugs.

“That’s okay, the offer is always there,’ he replies with a grin and Max finds himself grinning widely back.

They arrive back home just as Sophie is dishing up their evening meal, an array of fragrant pasta dishes for them to sample. Once they’re done, Max waddles away from the table, completely satisfied and makes his way to his room where he promptly falls asleep.

*

Max is happy about how he spends his time for the next week; he seems to alternate between spending a day with Dilara then spending one with Dan. It seems his father is having a slow time with his writing projects so he lets Dan take a bit of time off every other afternoon and now that the barrier of awkwardness has been broken down between the two men, Max finds it to easy to allow Dan in to his sphere of existence.

Dilara is slightly different but no less magnetic. She tugs softly on Max’s hand as she leads him around the town, pointing out the characters that reside in each house or laughing at the small children playing games. She leads him into shaded alleyways and kisses him, pressing her body up against him and he can’t help but wind his arms around her waist and kiss her back.

“I really like you Max,’ she says one day, when they’ve cycled to the next town over and are lying on the grass of a local park.

“I really like you too,’ he says and he means it.

Maybe becoming friends has helped him move away slightly from his fascination/obsession with Dan, rather than merely fantasising from a distance. He still catches himself staring at Dan’s chest when he stretches before jumping into the river or marvelling at how wide his hands are when he’s gesticulating his ideas but he figures he’s a teenage boy, his day dreams must be like everyone else’s his age. So he focuses his affections on Dilara and so far, it’s all going well.

“Do you want to maybe meet up tonight?’ She asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes as the strap of her top slips off a tanned shoulder.

Max brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What did you have in mind?’ He asks.

“What did you think I have in mind?’ She counters, leaning in close until their foreheads are pressed together.

Max lets out a small huff of breath.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,’ she replies, ‘I…I’ve always wanted my first time to be with you.”

Max leans in then and kisses her, threading his hand into her head and pulling her close. This is what he wants; beautiful Dilara, wrapping herself around him, looking at him with those adoring smiles. This is what he wants.

“I’ll come by yours around midnight?’ She asks when they break apart.

“Sounds good to me,’ Max says, pressing one more kiss to her lips before helping her stand.

“I’ll see you later then,’ she says, ever so slightly breathless and rose-tinted blush across her cheeks, ‘Bye Max.”

She walks away and gets on her bicycle, giving him one last wave before disappearing down the street. As soon as she’s out of sight, Max can’t help but whoop loudly, scaring a few of the nearby birds. He hops on his bike and cycles home, whistling to himself the whole way. Once he’s locked up his bike he enters the farm house and presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek as he passes her in the kitchen.

“Someone’s in a good mood,’ she says to his retreating back and Max couldn’t agree more.

*

Max has been watching the clock in his room since ten o’clock and finally its quarter to midnight. Being as carefully quiet as he can, he slips off his bed and grabs his shoes, deciding to chance being barefoot over his trainers on the old wood floorboards of the farm house. He opens his door and checks up and down the hallway, seeing no-one. All the lights are off and it’s pitch black but he’s walked these halls so many times, all he needs is the slither of moonlight leaking from between the curtains to make his way downstairs.

He makes it to the kitchen without any issues and takes a seat on one of the bar stools to tie up his shoes.

“Where are you off to?’ Comes a soft voice from the shadows and Max nearly falls off his stool in surprise.

“Dan?’ He questions the darkness and the man emerges from the shadows, glass of amber liquid in hand, the ice cubes tinkling against the crystal echoing in the space between them.

He takes a large gulp of his drink before putting it on the side and looking at Max once again with curious eyes.

“Where are you going so late at night Max?’ He asks once again, stepping closer and putting a hand on the table about an inch away from Max’s elbow, ‘Midnight rendezvous? Very romantic.”

Max feels his cheeks heat up under that stare.

“Just…just fancied a walk,’ he says, voice going up at the end as if he’s questioning himself.

Dan snorts.

“Of course you did,’ he says, leaning even closer, ‘You can’t lie to me Maxy,”

Max can smell alcohol on his breath and knows this is a bad idea but Dan’s magnetism has him caught in place, unable to move away. He stays there for a moment, eyes flicking to Max’s lips. ‘Is this really happening?’ Max thinks to himself, heart pounding loudly in his chest. He could do it. He could grow some fucking balls and lean in, close the gap between them but he does nothing. The moment stretches on until suddenly Dan pulls away entirely, grabs his drink and downs the rest.

“Have a fun evening,’ he says, walking out of the kitchen, ‘And don’t worry, I won’t tell your parents. Not like I didn’t have a bit of fun when I was your age.”

Max watches his retreating back wondering what the hell just happened.

“Dan,’ he says, watching the other man turn around slowly.

His eyes still seem to sparkle as if all they need to shine is the minuscule slither of moonlight peeping through the window.

“Have a good night Maxy,’ he says firmly before pausing his steps, ‘And let her know that if she hurts my boy, there’ll be hell to pay.”

He turns around this time with an air of finality whilst Max feels like his entire world has been turned upside down. He can’t say anything else as Dan ascends the stairs and disappears from his eye line, feet heavy on the creaking wood. Max raises his hands and realises they’re shaking. As if on autopilot, he walks outside, trying to shed the wave of adrenaline that’s settled over his body.

“Psst, Max,’ comes a voice from his left and he wishes people would stop surprising him.

Dilara walks out of the shadow of the house and grabs his hand, smile wide in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?’ She asks, raising her palm to cup his cheek.

He looks into her concerned eyes, allows himself a moment to feel absolutely, horrifically conflicted before pushing all his feelings into the deepest recess of his heart. This is what he wants. He squeezes her hand and smiles.

“I’m all good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! This is a real labour of love so I hope you enjoyed it. I always end up adding Maxiel in as a side paring for my other stories but I really wanted to put some effort into this. I'll be trying to update the next couple of chapters within the next week so keep your eyes peeled and if you liked this story, please leave kudos or comment, I really appreciate it!


	2. During

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max falls for Daniel. Hard.

“Did you have a good time last night?’ Dan asks in a conversational tone when Max comes downstairs for breakfast the next morning.

Max looks around the kitchen in a panic before realising Dan was the only one in there. He rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the older man’s question.

“I meant what I said last night,’ he says, sipping a black coffee, ‘I won’t tell.”

Max feels as if he’s talking about more than just speaking to his parents about him sneaking out but he’s not about to be the one to bring it up.

“It was good,’ he says, before mentally adding ‘No thanks to you.’

“Good,’ Dan replies and an awkward silence falls over the two men.

It remains quiet while Max butters some toast and takes a seat opposite Dan, feeling crushed by the atmosphere but not wanting to leave either.

“Your dad has given me the day off today,’ Dan says, ‘Come to the river with me?”

“You can’t go there without me anyway,’ Max counters, ‘You’ll get lost.”

Dan laughs and Max feels the atmosphere shift to a more comfortable one.

“Fair point Maxy,’ he says, standing up and ruffling the younger man’s hair, ‘I’ll go grab my things.”

Max bats his hand away but can’t help watching him as he leaves. Just as Dan moves out of sight, his mother walks into the kitchen from the garden, face ever so slightly red and a frown on her brow.

“Oh, Max,’ she says, slightly startled when she spots him, pulling the cardigan she has on a little closer to herself, ‘I thought you’d be out already.”

Max frowns at that.

“I don’t really have much of a schedule,’ he says, ‘But Dan and I are heading out soon.”

She gives him a tight smile at that.

“Well that’ll be good,’ she says, grabbing his face between her hands and looking at him with an almost scary amount of sincerity, ‘I’m glad you’re getting on now. I was a little worried at the beginning but Dan’s a good person, I knew he’d help you come out of your shell.”

“Mum, you’re being a little bit weird,’ Max says but he still holds onto Sophie’s wrists in a comforting gesture, ‘We’ll be back in time for dinner, alright?”

Sophie smiles a bit more genuinely this time.

“You’re a good boy Max,’ she says, patting his cheek before moving away, ‘Anyway, enjoy the rest of your day and I’ll see you later.”

She walks out of the kitchen to the little workshop in the back where she sometimes paints, closing the door behind her. Max stares at the door for a while, trying to work out what had just happened.

“You ready?’ Dan asks, suddenly appearing at Max’s shoulder and making him jump.

“Yeah,’ he says, finally turning away from the door and smiling at Dan, ‘Ready to go.”

Dan looks back to the door as well with a questioning brow but Max shrugs and makes his way out into the garden. He spots his dad reclining on a sun lounger about five metres away smoking a cigarette, watching as the smoke swirls upwards towards the sky. He looks contemplative and he’s sure the expression is the result of whatever made his mother upset.

“Are you alright?’ Dan asks him and he realises he’s been stood in the same spot watching his father for a moment too long for it to seem casual.

“Yeah, I’m good,’ he replies, waving away Dan’s concern with a flippant hand, ‘Just thinking.”

“About anything in particular?’ Dan asks as they begin to walk again.

“No, just how fucked up life is sometimes,’ he replies and Dan nods in agreement.

“Too right Maxy,’ he says, voice low and serious.

Max knows they’re not talking about the same things but he does feel a little bit of comfort in the general sentiment behind the other man’s words. They make their way out of the garden and towards their usual spot at the river without saying much but there’s an air of easy understanding between the pair of them now that puts Max at ease. He leads them through the undergrowth with their bikes and soon they’re laying by the river, toes dangling over the edge of the bank and staring up at the cloudless sky.

“Mum and dad haven’t been getting on for a while,’ Max says, breaking the silence.

“Really?’ Dan asks sounding surprised.

“Yeah,’ Max says quietly, ‘They’ve not been great the last few years or so. I thought they’d work it out at first but I’m not so sure. If they can’t get along in one of the most beautiful places in the world then I don’t know how they’re going to make it work back home.”

He trails off, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He’s been gearing up to talking about this with Victoria for a while but he knew it would be a difficult conversation to have, especially if she hadn’t seen anything and disagreed. Dan is a third party, having only witnessed his parent’s interactions while they’ve been away so he feels like he has a different perspective.

“If they want to work it out, they will,’ Dan says, his voice sounding serious once again (and Max thinks he prefers it a lot more when he sounds full of joy), ‘Sometimes people drift apart as they get older or their priorities change.”

It sounds like solid advice but Max can’t help the small flame of fear growing in his heart. He finds his eyes beginning to water and tries to subtly wipe the tears away from his face. Although he thinks he’s gotten away with it, he feels an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him close. He turns and curls into Dan’s body, letting himself feel all the emotions that have been bubbling under his skin for the longest time. Dan pulls him tighter and Max can’t help the sob that escapes him, feeling for the first time in a long time that everything might turn out okay. They remain like that for a while and eventually the tears stop. Although he feels as though his insides have been turned around, Max is also lighter and reset.

He moves back from Dan slightly, chancing a look at the other man’s face. His brows are furrowed but his affection for Max is clear in his eyes and smile. Heart hammering in his chest, Max decides not to think.

He moves close and presses his lips to Dan’s. It’s just a quick peck before he pulls back to see Dan’s reaction. His eyes are closed and his brow is furrowed.

“Max, we really shouldn’t,’ he whispers as if it pains him to do so.

“Dan, I…please,’ Max replies and as Dan opens his eyes, Max knows he’s won, ‘Kiss me.”

After such a request, Dan wastes no time in moving close once again, capturing Max’s lips and grasping at the back of his neck. He winds his other hand around his back and cradles him as close as possible, their lips sliding together as if they were made for each other. Max thinks they might be.

Max’s breath stutters when Dan runs his tongue along the seam of his lips, an intensity of arousal like he’s never felt before running from where they’re connected by their mouths to the tips of his toes. Slotting his leg between Dan’s, he bucks his hips closer, whining as his clothed erection brushes against the one he can feel in Dan’s swim shorts.

“Fuck, the things you do to me Maxy,’ Dan says, pulling away and looking into Max’s hazy eyes, ‘You’re an absolute dream.”

Max gives him a shit-eating grin before rolling him fully onto his back and pressing his wrists into the grass beneath them. He knows Dan could probably overpower him but he wants to see how far he can push his luck: he’s already gotten this far.

“I’m gonna suck you off,’ he says, mustering all the confidence he has as he begins to slide down Dan’s body.

“Jesus Christ Maxy,’ Dan hisses as Max slides the usual garish swim-shorts down his legs and throws them over his shoulder.

Max finds himself pausing for a moment, suddenly unable to move as he looks at Dan’s cock, mere inches away from his face. His heart is pounding in his ears: is he really about to do this? In contrast to his harshly spoken promise, he tentatively reaches out a hand, brushing it over the velvet skin of Dan’s shaft. He can’t help but squeeze his thighs together to give himself some friction when Dan moans loudly. Max repeats the action, intrigued and helplessly turned on by Dan’s reactions.

He leans closer, eyes crossing as he continues to stare, each movement of his hand pulling Dan’s foreskin down a fraction further until the plump head has been revealed. He watches in fascination as a bead of clear pre-come gathers in the slit before slowly sliding down the crease. Before it can reach the shaft, Max takes a deep breath through his nose and leans that last inch forward, using his tongue to gather the liquid and get a taste. Dan jolts at the feeling of the hot muscle on his dick and curses loudly up towards the sky.

Spurred on by the encouraging reaction, Max moves forward again. He uses his tongue to guide him, slathering as much of Dan’s prick as he can in saliva and before he can really process what he’s doing, he’s sliding the head into his mouth. He’s still using one hand to steady his movements but the other slides under Dan’s bare thigh, gripping the tattooed flesh there to help act as a lifeline to reality. In his enthusiasm he moves his head down a bit too fast and when the head hits his tonsils, he can’t help but gag, pulling off of Dan’s dick to cough onto the grass. Once he’s done choking, he looks at Dan through watering eyes and is met with one of those curious stares.

“Have you ever done that before?’ Dan asks and although his tone is questioning and not mocking, Max can’t help but flush in shame.

“Is it that obvious?’ He asks, looking away.

“Hey, hey,’ Dan says, kneeling in front of him and cupping his face, ‘It’s not that. I was obviously enjoying it a lot.”

After those words, Dan shifts a little and Max can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to his dick, still stood to attention in the nest of dark hair between Dan’s tanned thighs. He swallows tightly and when his eyes are back on Dan, the other man is smiling brightly.

“I just don’t want you to go into anything thinking you have to prove yourself to me,’ Dan says as he leans their foreheads together, ‘You are more than enough as you are, don’t forget that.”

Max feels himself on the verge of tears for the second time that day. All he can do to stop them is tilt his head and capture Dan’s lips in a kiss that hopefully portrays a fraction of his gratitude. He kneels up, slings his arms over Dan’s shoulders and pulls him as close as physically possible, aligning their bodies. He can’t help but moan as he feels Dan’s prick rub against his clothed one and bucks up. Dan smirks against his lips and drops his hands from Max’s cheeks to hook them into his shorts, swiftly pulling them down to his knees.

Max groans in pleasure when Dan grasps his dick, almost embarrassed by how wet it is already but barely coherent enough to care. Dan jerks him off expertly, calloused fingertips seeking every ridge and vein and applying just enough pressure to make Max feel like he’s in heaven.

“Dan,’ he manages to choke out against the other man, ‘I-I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to last.”

“Baby,’ Dan whispers and Max shivers, ‘You can come whenever you want. I want you to.”

Max feels as if his senses have gone into overdrive, his entire body thrumming with arousal as Dan’s hand speeds up. He has enough sense to put his own palm against Dan’s dick once again, weakly moving it up and down as he tries his best to reciprocate but he’s so on edge, he can’t concentrate on anything but the delicious friction.

“Oh fuck, Dan,’ Max hisses, bucking his hips into the circle of Dan’s hand three more times before he’s coming, stars sparking behind his eyelids.

“That’s it baby,’ Dan whispers to him as he writhes through his aftershocks, ‘You did so well.”

Max keens at the words, feebly slapping Dan with his free hand in an attempt to shut him up which only earns him a quiet chuckle. When he finally opens his eyes, Dan is smiling at him serenely, his eyes still half-lidded and cheeks flushed. He looks ethereal. Max looks down and sees he’s still gripping Dan’s dick in his hand and although it’s pulsing with pre-come, he’s very obviously still hard.

“What do you want me to do?’ Max asks him, looking up through his lashes at the older man.

“You don’t have to do anything Maxy,’ Dan says but Max shakes his head and starts to move his hand.

“I want to,’ he whispers, leaning in close once again, breath ghosting against Dan’s lips, ‘Show me how you like it.”

Dan huffs loudly through his nose but obliges, folding his huge hand around Max’s own and beginning to move up and down.

“Most of the time, I like to take things slow,’ he says, voice light but Max can tell he’s putting a lot of effort into sounding nonchalant, ‘Really wine and dine my partner, tease them a lot.”

He winks at Max who can’t help but roll his eyes.

“There’s just something about you Maxy,’ he continues and Max feels his blush return (if it ever left in the first place), ‘You make me feel like a fucking firecracker or something, about to go off at any second.”

The hand over his own is speeding up now, the exposed head appearing then disappearing rapidly within the curl of the two fists. Max’s breathing has sped up as well; just the way Dan talks is still turning him on despite his previous orgasm. Dan rests his head on Max’s shoulder, his hot breath ghosting across his neck and Max lets out a shaky exhale, focusing on the movement of his hand.

“Jesus Christ,’ Dan whispers before his hips thrust into Max’s fist for the final time, covering it in come.

His body shakes as he continues to move his hand, seeking out the last echoes of his orgasm before stilling completely in Max’s grasp. The trickling of water and breaths between them are the only sounds in the clearing as both men recover from what just happened. Max feels his confidence waning the longer the quietness goes on and he can’t help but begin to hunch in on himself.

“Maxy,’ Dan says suddenly.

Max looks up but before he can say anything, Dan is pressing their lips together again. There’s only a hint of heat behind it, the overriding emotion being happiness as Max feels his insecurities melt away. Dan leans back before looking down at the mess between them.

“Feel like we need a dip in the water Maxy,’ he says, untangling their come-covered hands and standing up, shucking his damp t-shirt as he walks over to the river with no shame.

Max watches him go and laughs as he jumps in, the splashes of water landing at Max’s feet.

“You coming in or what?’ Dan shouts and Max rolls his eyes.

He supposes some things will never change.

*

Max lies on his bed and attempts to read the same page of his book for what seems like the fifth time. The heat in his room is stifling and causing his brain to turn to mush. He would normally be outside, pretending to enjoy the sunshine but he’s been avoiding Dilara ever since he and Dan first kissed by the river and he knows this is the usual time she would be coming by the house. Dan is helping Jos all day today while Sophie and Victoria have gone into town so he’s been left to entertain himself for the afternoon but all he’s been doing is attempting to distract himself from the almost permanent horniness he’s been feeling ever since he was first with Dan.

It’s like a beast has been awakened inside of him: all he ever wants to do is jump Dan’s bones. Dan is well aware of this and has used this knowledge to tease him by sucking on food in an unnecessarily sexy way or stretching his arms over his head to show off his toned stomach and winking at Max when he catches him looking. It’s been driving him insane but they haven’t had any real time alone to do anything other than kiss as Jos has decided he needs Dan’s help with everything suddenly.

Max huffs frustratedly, closing the book and throwing it off to the side. Looking down, he sees the obvious tent in his pants that normally accompanies his thoughts of Dan and sighs, wondering if there’ll ever come a time in his life where he’ll be able to think of the older man without getting an erection. Right now it doesn’t seem particularly likely. He’s just about to pull his shorts down and get it over with when he spots the peach he’d brought up earlier perched on the edge of his bedside table.

He looks at it for a moment and an idea begins to form in his mind. He shakes his head as if to try and dispel it from his brain but now it’s there, it seems permanently lodged in his conscious.

He shouldn’t, right?

Before he can overthink what he’s doing, Max picks up the peach, twirling it around in his hands and observing it from all angles. It’s soft and light in his palms and he traces the faint crease running from top to bottom with both his thumbs. Gently as he dares, he begins to pull it apart, pressing into soft flesh. The pressure breaks the fuzzy skin and Max inhales the scent of sweetness as deeply as he can in an attempt to steady his thumping heart. He digs his thumbs deeper into the place where succulent fruit has been revealed, twisting and guiding them further in until he reaches the stone. Instead of plucking it out between his thumb and forefinger, Max levers it out and tears it away from the flesh it’s attached to, carelessly flicking it to the floor.

There’s juice running all over his hands and chest in rivulets but he can’t seem to find it in himself to care, not when there’s a warm, inviting hole between his hands. His cock is already free and leaking against his stomach; some of the juices from the fruit have even begun to mix with the precome gathering there. Max wastes no more time and ever so slowly sinks the peach down onto his cock.

“Oh my fucking God,’ he hisses into the silence of the room.

He’s going crazy. He’s literally gone insane. That’s the only explanation Max can come up with as to why he’s doing this and why it feels so good. Having already been on the edge before he’d even started this whole situation, he’s not surprised when he orgasms almost instantly, his come filling then spilling down the crease of the peach and all over his cock. Max is still for a minute, eyes squeezed shut and breathing hard as he attempts to hold onto the ecstasy he feels before the crippling shame of what he’s done bares down on him.

He pulls the peach off of himself and places it on the side without opening his eyes, not wanting to look at the evidence. He turns over and lets the humiliation run over him. Curling in on himself, he drowns in that feeling, wanting nothing more than for his body to just disappear. It’s with these thoughts swirling in his mind that he falls into a restless sleep.

*

“Been having fun without me have you?’ Says a voice, waking Max up abruptly.

He scrambles in his sheets to sit up and sees Dan leaning against the bathroom doorway. Max has never been too self-conscious but as he peeks down at himself and sees the streaks of juice and dried come shining slightly in the sunset light still pouring through the window, he can’t help but pull the sheet up just a little.

“Are you finished with work now?’ Max asks, trying to deflect Dan’s attention to something other than his body.

“Yeah and all your family are out,’ Dan says with a wide grin, walking over towards the bed and sliding beside Max, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, ‘So it’s just you and me.”

He leans down and presses his lips against Max’s and before he can even process his thoughts, Max’s hands are twisting in Dan’s t-shirt and he’s desperate.

“Hey hey hey,’ Dan says softly, pulling away slightly to look at the younger man, ‘There’s no need to rush. We can take our time.”

Max can’t help but let out a small huff at that but his annoyed endearment soon turns to pure horror when he realises Dan is looking over his shoulder to his side table, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“What’s this?’ He asks with a tone that tells Max he knows exactly what it is.

He reaches across before Max has a chance to do anything about it and picks up the soiled fruit, twisting it in his hands and observing with curious eyes.

“I-I,’ Max starts, his face flushing with shame as he tries to think of a way to explain himself, ‘It’s not-.”

“Are you about to say it’s not what it looks like?’ Dan asks and Max gulps loudly, ‘Because it looks like you’ve fucked this peach.”

Max buries his head in his hands, eyes burning with ashamed tears. He peeks through his fingers to try and gauge Dan’s reaction but watches in horror as the older man takes a bite out of the absolutely ruined side of the peach.

“Dan!’ Max screeches, trying to reach for the fruit but Dan holds it out of reach with a smirk as he chews.

“Delicious,’ he says teasingly, going to take another bite.

“Please, please don’t,’ Max begs, feeling tears of complete embarrassment gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“Woah, Maxy, what’s wrong?’ Dan asks, dropping the teasing and putting the peach back on the side before cupping his face with his hands, ‘I’m sorry, I was just teasing, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I,’ Max starts, swallowing another sob before he continues, ‘I don’t want you to go.”

There’s a silence between the pair of them, Max staring at Dan’s chest while the older man just holds him. Max is surprised that was what came out of his mouth but as he searches through his thoughts to work out how he came to that conclusion, he realises that Dan’s easy acceptance that he did what he did is what makes him like him so much. He knows there’s a time limit on their relationship, there always has been and as much as he’s been trying to ignore it, he can’t stop time. Max knows Dan can’t placate him with false promises of staying behind and he wouldn’t want that. He’s not sure what he does want or what could make this situation better. Perhaps this is the real source of his desperation and sleepless nights, not just the horniness.

He peers up at Dan’s face, eyebrows drawn and eyes shiny and moves up to kiss him, attempting to press all his passion and overwhelming feelings into it. Dan does the same, his arms moving to wrap all the way around Max’s chest, pressing their bodies flush together. Max knows he’s getting sloppy but it’s all he can do to express just how much he feels for the older man.

It’s not a promise of anything except the present and for now, that has to be enough.

*

“Why hello my son I’ve barely seen this Summer,’ Sophie greets Max as he takes a seat at the kitchen island, blearily reaching for some fruit salad before rolling his eyes.

“You’re being dramatic,’ he says but he does feel a little bit bad.

He’s been either spending the latest mornings sleeping in (after staying up all hours of the night with Dan) or having breakfast with Dan and his father in his study before they begin their work for the day. Although the thoughtful silence from his father are a little intimidating, Max would be damned if it stops him spending even an extra minute with Dan.

Either way, he hasn’t been spending nearly as much time with his mother as he should.

“Why don’t you come shopping with me today?’ She asks, taking a sip of tea and giving him a wide smile, ‘We can get something nice for dinner.”

Max mentally runs through the schedule Dan had recited to him this morning before nodding his head. Sophie thoughtfully narrows her eyes ever so slightly but her smile never fades.

Within the hour, Max is showered, dressed and mounting his bike alongside his mother. Their journey into town is quiet but not in the way his father’s silences are. Jos’ quietness settles over a room like a thick fog with Max always waiting to find out what’s hiding in the void. Sophie’s silences are full of comfort: there’s nothing that needs to be said as they can read it in each other. It’s a welcome change of pace.

Max has always been told he’s very much like his mother and as a child it used to upset him. Boys are meant to be cheeky and noisy not quiet and kind and he’d tried to act that way. He was always fighting but not without guilt in his stomach and fear in his fists. As he’s gotten older, he’s become more and more glad to be compared to Sophie in personality but he doubts the comparisons between him and his father will ever stop completely, especially when he’s always told how much they look alike.

They lazily make their way to the centre of town, stopping off at a small cafe where the staff greet Max’s mother by name and hand her a complimentary slice of cake alongside her espresso and Max’s chocolate milkshake. She pushes it towards him and settles her chin in her palm, eyes curious. Max keeps his head down and shovels a bite of cake into his mouth, feigning ignorance. He’s almost upset to be using the cake as an excuse not to talk to his mother as it’s so delicious it really should be savoured.

“I was thinking,’ Sophie starts and Max gulps, ‘Your father is going to be wrapping up his work soon before Dan goes back to Australia. Maybe you two could go on a little trip to Bergamo. It’d be a shame for him not to see any more of Italy than our little corner of it.”

Max stares at his mother in slight disbelief.

“Um, yes,’ he says, smile widening, ‘Please, that-that would be amazing! Thank you!”

Sophie’s grin is sparkling as Max leans around the side of the table and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“No problem my darling,’ she says, gripping his hand across the table once he’s sat down again as she takes another small sip of her coffee.

It’s only then that Max notices she’s not wearing her wedding ring. There’s a small pale strip of skin at the base of her ring finger and he can’t believe he didn’t see the lack of diamond and gold earlier. He glances up at his mother and her smile drops as she realises that he’s noticed. She gives him a tight smile and begins to withdraw her hand, obviously preparing to explain herself. Max acts quickly, pulling her hand back and squeezing it in his own.

“It’s okay,’ he says, feeling like his world is crashing down around him but he’s standing in the middle of the mess with the most peaceful feeling inside, ‘Don’t worry mum.”

Sophie’s wide smile returns, albeit a little more watery than before.

“You’re a wonderful man Max,’ she says, ‘My wonderful, beautiful son.”

“Alright mum, you’re overdoing it now,’ he says and although they’re both laughing it’s a little choked up.

Once they calm down, the cafe owner brings two glasses of strawberry lemonade over to their table, citing that it’s too early even for him for wine but hopefully that will cheer them up. Max drinks his own and most of Sophie’s, the pair of them moving their conversation to the less-emotional topic of what they want to make for lunch and supper and the plans for Max’s trip. Once they’re done they visit the local market, Sophie stopping to smell how fresh the vegetables are and sample cheeses and meats. Max nods along dutifully while she talks in fluent Italian to the stall owners about what’s in season and they’re so impressed with her accent that they hand her a couple of extras for free. Max knows she knows she’s charming and he tries not to roll his eyes to give the game away.

Once they’ve bought their food, they cycle to the other side of town to the bus station. Sophie buys Dan and Max’s tickets to Bergamo the weekend after next and when Max takes out his wallet, she holds up her hand.

“My treat,’ she says gently as she carefully places the holder with the tickets into his hand.

He carries them gently, as if they’re something fragile before carefully slotting them into his wallet. He can feel the weight of them in his back pocket the entire journey home.

*

“Do you believe in fate?’ Dan asks Max when they’re lounging by the river just a few days before their trip away (as well as Dan’s last week in Italy (which Max tries very, very hard not to think about)).

He sits up on his elbows and peers down at the older man. His face is carefully blank as it usually is when he asks these weird questions but Max humours him anyway.

“I see the appeal,’ Max says, looking up at the sky, ‘If things are bad, you can blame it on fate or hope that things will get better.”

Max has a brief flashback to his mother, ring finger empty and that sad, sad smile.

“But you don’t believe in it?’ Dan asks and Max snorts.

“You always see through me,’ he says with a smile, ‘I think you get to where you are with hard work and being strong in the face of adversity.”

“That sounds like something your dad would say,’ Dan says with a smile but Max feels a bit sick at the comparison, ‘I think you’re wrong.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I think fate is a string of coincidences,’ Dan starts and Max settles in, knowing he’s gearing up for an introspective monologue, ‘All seemingly random events that bring you to a place or a job. Maybe a person.”

Dan looks Max straight in the eyes then, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. Max would be embarrassed at how easily he turns his face towards the warm palm but he knows he’s past that now. Dan hums.

“Even if we’re not together, I will always remember this,’ he says, leaning in and kissing Max with more tenderness than ever before, as if he’s the most precious human being in the world.

When he leans away, he presses their foreheads together and breathes deeply, both hands now holding onto Max’s face.

“I think fate isn’t done with us just yet Maxy,’ he whispers and Max feels the fat tears begin to escape his eyes.

Desperately Max kisses Dan once again in an attempt to stop himself from saying something stupid like “please don’t go” or “I love you”. Dan cradles him in his arms before pulling him into his lap, hands stretching and stroking across both his thighs. Max wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders and they stay in their embrace, breathing in each other’s company. Eventually Max calms down and pulls away ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Dan’s nose. The older man grins.

“You’re perfect Maxy,’ he whispers, ‘Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“God, sometimes you come out with the cheesiest things,’ Max huffs but he’s still blushing.

“They’re all true though,’ Dan says and although it’s accompanied by a shit-eating grin, his eyes are sincere.

Max knows his heart is going to be broken. What he doesn’t know is if he’ll ever recover.

*

“It was so nice meeting you Dan,’ Sophie says, kissing him once on each cheek, ‘If you’re in the area, you always have a place to stay.”

“Thanks Soph,’ he says as he pulls her in for a hug as well.

She’s laughing as she hugs back and Max notes that she’s wearing her wedding ring again. His father is stood next to her, impatiently waiting for Sophie to move so he can impart some classic Verstappen wisdom to the man who has been his apprentice all summer. He’s also shifting a little from foot to foot and looking around, obviously worried about making a scene at the bus station. Once Sophie and Dan part, Jos holds out his hand. Dan grasps it and smiles albeit not as brightly as he smiled at Sophie.

“Good luck,’ Jos says simply before adding, ‘Let me know if you need anything Daniel.”

“Will do boss,’ Dan replies, laughing at the way Jos rolls his eyes, ‘Thanks for everything.”

“Do you have everything?’ Sophie asks, rounding on Max with his rucksack slung over one shoulder.

“Yes mum, just like I said back at the house and on the drive over here, I’ve got everything I could possibly need.”

Sophie tsks and presses a kiss to Max’s cheek.

“You know I worry about you darling,’ she says, reaching up and squeezing his shoulders.

He pats her hand before turning to his father. His eyes betray nothing as he shakes Max’s hand with his usual stoic air as the bus pulls up to the stop.

“I’ll see you in a few days,’ he reminds his mother who looks like she’s about to cry, ‘I’ll call you when we get there.”

“Have a great time boys,’ Sophie says as they board the bus, ‘See you soon Dan!”

“You betcha,’ he says with a cheeky wink, ‘Cheers again Jos!”

Jos nods and Max pulls Dan further onto the bus to avoid anymore goodbyes. They take their seats, Max pressed in against the window while Dan takes the aisle seat and waves as Max’s parents come to stand level with them. Max waves one more time as the bus begins to pull away, wishing that he hadn’t noticed the gap between them as they stand side-by-side. They’re out of sight now and Max turns back to face Dan.

“You ready for an adventure?’ He asks with a smile and Dan returns it, ruffling his hair.

“Always,’ he replies and they settle in for the journey.

*

By the time they arrive in Bergamo, all they want to do is eat. They find a nice-looking cafe that serves enormous pizza and Dan orders for them in fluent Italian.

“You know, for all the time we’ve been in Italy, that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak Italian,’ Max ponders as they wait for their food, bags around their feet, ‘You’re pretty good.”

“My surname is Ricciardo, of course I know Italian,’ Dan replies with a laugh and Max rolls his eyes.

As soon as their food is placed in front of them, the pair are devouring it with barely a breath between bites.

“Holy shit this is so good,’ Max says, licking the orange oil and herbs from his fingers and humming.

He looks at Dan to see how his pizza is going down but finds the other man with his eyes focused on Max’s lips. Max pauses in his eating and, as slowly as he dares, sucks his index finger back into his mouth. Never taking his eyes off of Dan, he pulls the finger out until only the pad remains between his lips before sucking it back inside once again. Dan bites his lip and Max smirks, pulling the finger out of his mouth with a satisfying pop.

“How far away is the hotel your mum booked us into?’ Dan asks, voice low.

“Hopefully not too far,’ Max says, deciding to do his best to finish his pizza as soon as possible.

*

“Too far,’ Max says, wheezing and feeling slightly sick as they stumble into their hotel room, ‘It was too far.”

It had turned out that the hotel Sophie had booked them into was in fact in Bergamo Alta, atop of a beautifully scenic but very long hill. The pair of them barely had enough energy to appreciate the absolutely splendid architecture appearing before them as they walked through the gates of the old city with how full and tired they were, bags heavy on their shoulders and pizza sitting like a rock in their stomachs.

“I’m not even horny now,’ Dan says, flopping face down onto the bed before groaning and rolling onto his back, ‘I am stuffed with pizza though.”

Max laughs and lays beside him, reaching out and finding his hand between them. He entwines their fingers and closes his eyes, breathing in deeply to centre himself.

“Even though I feel like I’m about to explode, I’m happy it’s with you,’ Max says quietly.

He turns onto his side and watches Dan’s profile, the way his smile crinkles his cheeks and time seems to stand still. He feels as if he’s watching himself from the outside as he tentatively brushes his hand across Dan’s cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone as he goes. He holds it there for a second before moving to drop it against the covers but just as he does so, Dan grabs it and holds it to his chest.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before Max,’ Daniel says, turning to face him with a smile.

“And I doubt you will again,’ Max counters cheekily but Dan’s look merely turns wistful.

“You’re right,’ he replies and Max feels a little bit at a loss as to how to respond.

They lie there, just looking at each other and holding hands until Max feels his eyes begin to droop. Before he knows it, he’s fast asleep. When he wakes up he’s alone, the sound of running water drifting towards him from the ensuite bathroom. He strips off his sticky clothes as he stands and walks through the door, smiling to himself as he hears Dan humming over the sound of spray. He takes a deep breath and slips behind the shower curtain, his body hit instantly by the intense wall of steam.

“Decided to wake up then Maxy?’ Dan asks, not turning around as he washes his chest.

“It’s not nice waking up alone,’ Max replies, pout definitely evident in his voice.

“Aww, I’m sorry baby,’ Dan says, turning around to face him with dark eyes, ‘if I’d have known you would, I’d have woken you up and asked you to join me.”

Max shrugs. He chances a glance downwards and sees Dan’s cock twitch in interest.

“I’m here now,’ he replies, ‘That’s all that matters.”

Dan seems to agree as he leans forward and captures Max’s lips in a searing kiss. He pulls the younger man into the stream of water, the slickness of his hands on Max’s back heightening all his senses. He gasps into the kiss as Dan’s wet hands curl under his ass, gently kneading the flesh there between his fingers. He pulls the cheeks apart ever so slightly and adds a little more pressure as he simultaneously pushes his hips forward into Max’s. The way their dicks glide so deliciously against each other’s skin combined with the heady sensation of the water droplets running across him have Max feeling dizzyingly euphoric, as if he’s no longer a part of his body.

“Fuck, Dan,’ he whispers, pushing his hips forward in response, ‘Please, I need this.”

Dan lets out a breathless laugh at that, taking Max’s cock in his hand as well as his own.

“How could I say no to that?’ He asks, resting his head on Max’s shoulder and watching as their pricks slide against each other through his clasped hand.

The other hand makes its’ way back around to Max’s butt, fingers circling the rim of his ass. Max moans and jerks his hips, seeking out as much friction as possible.

“Dan, I’m gonna come,’ he says, breathing sharply through his nose as Dan pushes his finger a little further into his hole, barely past the first ring of muscle but enough for Max to feel it.

“Go on Maxy,’ he says, pressing an almost jarringly sweet kiss against his cheek, ‘Fucking come all over me.”

“Oh God,’ Max almost yells, stars exploding behind his eyes as he orgasms so powerfully he manages to splatter his come all the way up Dan’s chest.

“That’s it baby,’ Dan says, continuing to rub their pricks together, ‘You’re so fucking good, absolutely perfect.”

Max shudders through the praise and clenches his eyes shut, passing over the brink of over-sensitivity but wanting to make this a great memory for Dan. The older man groans, bites down on the juncture between Max’s neck and shoulder and comes all over the pair of them, breathing hard. They stand under the spray for a few minutes to catch their breath before Dan looks up from Max’s shoulder and into his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful Max,’ he says as he raises his clean hand to cup Max’s cheek.

Max brings a hand up to cover it and feels tears well up in his eyes. He’s never felt so safe and comforted but in that moment, he knows he’s deluded if he thinks this won’t end in tears.

“Dan, I…’ he says, trying to think of what he wants to say, ‘You…you make me so happy.”

Dan smiles brightly at him and presses their foreheads together. They don’t say anything else after that: Max feels that the unsaid words between them remain in the air for a reason and he doesn’t want to break the magic that seems to bind them together. Instead they clean each other up, dry off and clamber back into bed, fully-sated and warm. Max curls around Dan’s back and wishes that this moment could last forever. He knows it can’t but maybe if he wishes hard enough, it can come true.

*

The next day, the pair of them are up early to catch a bus to take them to the outskirts of town. Dan swears up and down he knows a place, somewhere he’s heard can rival Max’s clearing by the river for beauty and although Max is convinced that nowhere could be more picturesque, he goes along with Dan anyway. They make their way up the side of the mountains, Dan’s crumpled map in hand as he traces the walking route to the crudely marked circle in the middle. Max yells to the mountains, lungs bursting with life and feeling drunk on the light air of late Summer. Dan joins him, shouting out ridiculous chants towards the bowl where Bergamo sits, leaving Max in stitches.

They climb and climb and climb, barely stopping to rest but eventually they reach the crest of the hill and come upon a crashing waterfall. It must be at least twenty metres high, the water cascading in messy arcs as it tumbles over the precipice of the rocky mountainside. The sunlight paints the spray a rainbow of colours and Max has to admit that it is indeed stunning. He turns to Dan who’s already looking at him, lips quirked at the corners rather than beaming in a full smile.

“Shall we stop here for lunch?’ He asks, taking a seat on a rock and pulling two sandwiches out of his bag.

Max sits on the grass beside him and takes the sandwich, leaning against his leg as he takes a bite. They eat in silence, watching and listening to the sounds of nature around them. If Max could bottle up a memory and store it forever, he thinks this is the one he’d choose. He presses a kiss to the outside of Dan’s knee, just before his tattoos start, and smiles to himself as Dan smooths his fingers through Max’s hair.

They finish their food and eventually decide to make their way down the mountainside, chasing each other with kisses all the way down. They’re damp from sweat and spray when they finally reach the outskirts of town, managing to hitchhike a ride back to Bergamo Alta in the back of a rusty truck, sat amongst sacks of potatoes. They shower at the hotel and Dan tells Max to wear something nice before they go into town. Max raises an eyebrow but does as he’s told, picking out his nicest baby blue shirt and a pair of short shorts that elongate his legs. He sees Dan checking him out from the corner of his eye and can’t help but preen a little at the attention.

Dan leads him through the back alleys of Bergamo to a hole-in-the-wall bistro and they take a table outside: the warmth of the sun that’s been absorbed by the buildings throughout the day creates a hazy heat that settles over the streets, even as the light begins to disappear beyond the horizon. Max’s evening is filled with delicious food, a lot of red wine and barely coherent conversation.

“Will you write a romance story about me?’ Dan asks over the rim of his wine glass, watching Max tipsily devour his tiramisu, ‘In one of your little notebooks?”

Max pauses mid chew, considering his answer. He swallows the rest of his bite.

“Do you think you deserve one?’ He counters and Dan laughs loudly.

“You’ve got me there Maxy,’ he replies, looking at Max with such fondness that he has to look away.

What he doesn’t say is he’d write a hundred novels about Dan if it would convince him to stay with him.

“Are you going to write one about me?’ Max asks and Dan looks perplexed for a second.

“I’m not much of a writer,’ he starts before taking another sip, ‘But…I guess if I write about anything, it’ll be you. You’re pretty inspiring.”

Max mumbles a cross between an embarrassed thank you and an accompanying insult that has Dan chuckling into his wine.

Dan pays for the entire dinner despite a few protests from Max and soon they’re walking back to the hotel. Dan starts whistling loudly to himself as he pulls Max’s wobbly body along the streets, stopping every now and then to push him against a wall and kiss him senseless. They’re nearly back at the hotel when Dan stops, looking around and Max imagines he sees his ears pricking up like a Labrador.

‘D’you hear that Maxy?’ He asks, taking Max’s hands and pulling them back in the opposite direction.

Max has no choice but to follow, laughing at Dan’s enthusiastic mumbling as he follows the sound of music to the main plaza. There, in front of a church is a group of Italian teenagers, blasting music from their car as a couple of them dance in a controlled one-two step to the beat. Instead of joining them however, Dan pulls the pair into a nearby alleyway, just close enough to hear the beat drifting over the plaza.

Dan places one hand on Max’s shoulder, the other on his waist and begins to sway the pair of them to the music in the semi-darkness. Max does the same, tightening his hands in hard flesh and doing his best not to step on Dan’s toes or trip over the uneven cobblestones underfoot. The song changes and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, I’ve heard this damn song so many times,’ he complains but hums along with it under his breath anyway as they slowly move.

_When I’m with you it’s paradise_

_No place on Earth could be so nice_

_Through the crystal waterfall_

_I hear you call_

Max rolls his eyes as he listens to the lyrics.

“This is so cheesy,’ he complains and Dan chuckles.

“It is, can’t believe it’s been number one here for so long, can’t move for hearing it,’ he says with a smile down at Max.

_It’s right out of something from a fairy tale_

_A terribly exciting and scary tale_

_It’s nothing I could ever make up_

_Am I dreaming, will I wake up_

_Just to find out this is cruel reality_

Max gulps a little, looking up into Dan’s eyes and feeling (not for the first time) as if everything in the background melts away. They’re so close right now, breath ghosting across each other’s faces and nothing else exists in their sphere of existence except the other. They stop moving and just stare at each other. Max inches forward, Dan watching him as he does so and, ever-so-gently, he presses their lips together. His heart is singing in his chest, feeling as if it’ll burst free and as he pulls away, he wishes he could capture the look of pure contentment on the other man’s face.

“Maxy, I…’ Dan trails off and the weight of the words he’s about to say hang in the air, suspended in between a time before and after he says them.

Max waits with bated breath but a second turns into two then three then ten and Dan still hasn’t said anything. Instead he takes a deep breath and holds a hand up to Max’s cheek, thumb caressing the cheekbone gently.

“I think we should go back to the hotel,’ he says and after a second Max nods in agreement.

They’re silent on the way home and, although Max had once felt like the pair didn’t need spoken words to portray their feelings, he’s really, really wishing he could hear those three just the once before this comes to a halting end.

*

Time moves too fast.

Max feels his knees tremble and shake as he stands on the platform and watches the train approach in the distance. Dan is stood about a metre away from him with his eyes on the horizon and hand tight on the top of the suitcase that had contained his entire life for the past few months.

The bus ride to the train station in Crema had seemed like simultaneously the shortest and longest journey of Max’s life. His and Dan’s hands lay entwined between them the entire way but neither of them looked at each other as they approached the place where they would be parting. Max turns to look at the older man now with his hunched shoulders and unfamiliar crease between his eyebrows and feels his heart physically breaking in his chest.

It doesn’t take long for the train to pull up to the platform. Dan finally turns around to look at Max.

“Well,’ he starts, ‘Goodbye Max.”

He holds out his arms and Max enters them gladly, gripping his hands in the back of his shirt. Dan huffs out a small laugh against his neck only making Max hold on tighter. He tries to pull away but Max won’t let him, just wanting to savour the last moment between them. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this much, so much happiness for a beautiful Summer and joy at meeting this amazing man whilst also feeling so utterly devastated and sad.

“Maxy,’ Dan whispers and it feels like a secret between them, even as he backs off.

Max finally pulls away too, barely daring to look into Dan’s chocolate eyes. He manages a smile before he finally lets go entirely, hands trailing across Dan’s sides. He can’t think of anything to say. How do you summarise such a whirlwind of a Summer in a few fleeting parting words? It’s impossible.

Dan smiles briefly before walking towards the train, climbing up the steps and taking a seat. He looks at Max as if he’s got more to say but just as he exhales and prepares to speak, the guard slams the door shut. Max watches as Dan sighs, his breath fogging up the glass a little, before deciding to stare resolutely ahead.

Max walks forward, attempting to position himself in the other man’s eye line, desperately hoping for some last minute miracle. Nothing happens and the train begins to move. Dan’s eyes meet his for one last time as if to check he’s still there but as soon as the train begins to gather speed, he’s gone.

Max watches as the carriages roll past, one after another. They blur into one long line of anonymous windows and before he knows it, it’s rolling beyond the horizon and out of sight. As if on autopilot, Max walks to the nearest bench and sits down. He feels entirely empty inside like all his joy was packed away in Dan’s suitcase, travelling thousands of miles away. Before he can second-guess his actions, he’s on his feet and walking to the small telephone booth he had spotted when they first entered the station. He fishes in his bag for the small slip of paper his mother had handed to him before they left for the weekend, places a few coins into the slot and dials the number for the house with shaking fingers. It rings four times before anyone picks up.

“Hello, darling, is that you?’ Comes his mother’s voice and it takes all of Max’s strength not to break down and cry instantly.

“Mum, I-,’ He starts before having to take a stuttered breath, ‘Can you…can you come and pick me up? From Crema?”

“I’m on my way,’ he says in such an understanding tone that Max feels like he’s five years old again having scraped his knees and cried while his mother patched him up and hugged him.

He waits at the station and his body feels entirely numb. He doesn’t know how much time passes before Sophie shows up with a warm smile to greet him but as he clambers into her car, that’s when the tears start. He wills them away, embarrassed to be such a wreck in front of his mother, but they don’t relent and the more he tries to wipe them away, the more they fall. Sophie puts a gentle hand on his knee. He sobs all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed the story so far! If you have, please leave a comment or some kudos, it would be great to get some feedback! Final, concluding chapter will be coming in the next few days!


	3. After

_Four Years Later_

Max stretches his arms above his typewriter, clicking every joint from his shoulders down to his fingertips as he does so. The rhythmic typing he’s been doing for the last couple of hours seems to echo in his ears like a very specific form of tinnitus. He gently winds the page he’s been typing on out of the machine and makes sure it’s dry before placing it neatly on the growing pile of similar pages to his left.

He had thought that working on his second novel would be easier than the first, especially as the reception for it had been so good. He’s finding however that that’s not the case. Living up to the expectation of his first novel is almost overwhelming him and making him second guess every single word. He knows he’s been driving his mother insane and that’s definitely part of the reason she invited him to the farmhouse in Italy with her for the entire Winter season.

Potentially controversially, Max prefers Italy in the Winter. He loves trekking in the snow then spending his evenings cosied up by the fire in the living room. Unfortunately, the study where he has been spending the majority of his time is seriously lacking in terms of a decent heat source so he wiggles his toes to get the feeling back into them and pulls the fluffy cardigan gifted to him by his father tighter around his shoulders (it had come with a note saying ‘Don’t freeze in the study’ and that was as much approval as Max needed to now take the room as his own).

Just as Max is running the start of another piece of paper into his typewriter, there’s a gentle warning knock on the door. The handle twists and his mother pokes her head around the solid wood.

“Evening my busy worker,’ Sophie says fondly, stepping into the room, walking closer to Max and taking a look at the pile of paper next to him, ‘Made some good progress I see.”

“Hmm, hopefully,’ he says, ‘If I can’t write here, I can’t write anywhere, right?”

“Funny, I remember someone saying something similar years ago,’ Sophie says, brushing a hand through Max’s hair.

He’s been growing it out a little bit more, taking a little more care of himself and he thinks it shows. No longer the awkward teenager he was but a blossoming adult. Although saying that, he doesn’t think he’ll ever outgrow enjoying the relaxing sensation of Sophie’s gentle hand running across his head.

“Did you need anything?’ He asks after a few moments of silent head-rubbing and Sophie gives him a look.

“Well I came to see if you were ready for my party that starts in an hour but you’re obviously not,’ she replies with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shit,’ Max says, turning his head towards the clock and hurriedly standing up, ‘Sorry mum, I’ll go get ready now. What do you still need help with?”

“It’s all good darling, I had a feeling this would happen,’ she says before looking at him with a sad smile, ‘Your father used to do this all the time as well. He would always get so caught up in his stories.”

Max feels his eye visibly twitch at the comparison but can’t blame his mother for what she said: he knows it’s true.

“Well are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?’ He asks again anyway, just to be sure.

“No sweetheart, I already got Giovanna to help me with the decorations and all the food that needs to be is in the oven. Just go and get ready, okay? Then you can be on guest-greeting duty.”

She gives him a wicked grin at that, knowing Max’s absolute distain for small talk but he sucks it up with a smile.

“That’s fine mum,’ he replies, kissing her on the cheek before making his way out of the study and to his bedroom.

He hastily uses the shower, soaping up his hair and scrubbing at his fingertips in an attempt to remove the ink that seems as if it’s permanently tattooed onto the underside of his nails. Once he’s satisfied his hands are clean enough to be presentable, he hops out the shower and manages a quick shave. All he can grow is a patch of hairs on his chin and a few strands under his cheekbones but he knows Lando, Alex and George will all be coming tonight and if he leaves them there, it’s free game for their teasing remarks.

After drying off he enters his bedroom, rummaging through the pile of clothes on his chair for a shirt that’s both just formal enough and not too rumpled. He settles on a deep emerald one with embossed palm leaves trailing across the chest, the extra detail hiding any creases that may or may not be on the shirt. He spots a neatly folded baby blue shirt and runs his fingers across the fabric, an echo of a memory being brought to the surface of his mind; a night of laughter in Bergamo, a gentle sway to cheesy music in an alleyway, an eternity of waiting for words that would never be said. In hindsight, he’s glad they were left unspoken.

“Max, darling, are you ready?’ Sophie calls up the stairs and Max swears as he trips over himself trying to find a clean pair of jeans.

“Just coming mum,’ he shouts back over the ruckus of Christmas music that’s just started playing and pans clashing drifting from downstairs.

“Hurry up then, your sister will he here with the baby soon,’ she says and Max can’t help but roll his eyes to himself.

His mother really does dote on that baby.

He makes his way to the bathroom connecting his room with the spare one once again to check how he looks in the mirror. He takes a moment to briefly glance through the open door at the bedroom once occupied by a slightly insane Australian man what feels like a lifetime ago and can’t help but smile to himself. Before he can get caught up in memories of that Summer, Max splashes on a bit of aftershave and makes his way down the creaking stairs. He curses the over-zealous decorating his mother had done to celebrate the festive season as he catches his hand on a particularly pointy holly leaf but he figures she’d never been able to go as crazy when she was with his father and maybe she was making up for lost time.

He stands by the door for a while, greeting people he barely knows who all have comments on how much he’s grown or how he looks just like his father. He bottles away his annoyance at those comments for the sake of his mother’s reputation and tries his best to remain polite. Lando arrives with his parents in a very typically-Lando, over-the-top patterned suit, fist-bumping Max in a way that makes him roll his eyes. George and Alex arrive a few minutes later, immediately asking where Lando and the alcohol is. Max points them in the right direction, glad that there’ll be some entertainment this evening but hoping he won’t be enrolled to help clean up.

Eventually Sophie comes to relieve Max of his greeting duties, giving him a grateful smile as he accepts the beer she had brought over to him.

Finally free to do as he pleases, Max wanders through the Italian farm house, smiling at the odd collection of people his mother seems to have invited to their Christmas Eve dinner party. There’s Mario, the man who had offered his mother a free strawberry lemonade at his cafe on the day Max learned of his parent’s impending divorce. He raises his glass at Max with cheeks full of vol-au-vonts and Max returns his toast with his now-trademark single raised eyebrow.

Dilara is there too, chatting happily with Lando whose flushed cheeks indicate that he’s already had too many limoncello shots, courtesy of George and Alex who are giggling in the corner. She meets Max’s eyes and sends him a sweet smile and a wave. Even now he feels like it’s more than he deserves but he supposes that’s just a side effect of her endless kindness.

He remembers seeing her, waiting by the wall on the day his mother brought him back from Crema. He’d finally stopped crying as he hauled himself out of the car. Dilara had given him a once over and sighed.

“It’s alright Max,’ she said with a sad smile and, although eventually he told her the entire story, in that moment, those words were everything he needed.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, hiding his face in her shoulder in case he started tearing up once more and she had held him, her own crying dampening the top of Max’s shirt.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to see her without thinking back to that glorious and heartbreaking Summer despite her forgiveness. There’s always a small bubbling of underlying guilt that he knows he’ll live with for the rest of his life but he’s selfish and doesn’t know what he’d do if Dilara never spoke to him again.

Shaking his head to dispel the memories, he wanders over and makes an excuse to take her away from Lando. He pouts but does as Max asks, returning to where George and Alex are howling with laughter.

“Sorry about them,’ Max feels as though he has to say, ‘I would say that they’re not usually like this but you’d know it was a lie.”

Dilara tilts her head back in a full laugh and Max wonders why someone so beautiful ever let him break her heart.

“It’s all good Max, he’s just like an excitable little puppy,’ she says with a fondness in her eyes.

“Other than that, are you enjoying the party?’ Max asks conversationally and she nods.

“Of course! Your mother is honestly the best host,’ she replies and Max beams, ‘I meant to say by the way, I absolutely loved your book.”

Max turns bashful and can’t help but glance away from the delight in Dilara’s eyes.

“Did you really?’ He asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Obviously,’ she says with a grin, ‘I especially liked Mila, she’s awesome.”

“Well that’s good because I based her on you,’ he says and she pushes him lightly on the shoulder.

“You did not,’ she says, completely disbelieving.

“I did,’ he replies sincerely and Dilara’s smile softens from teasing to shy.

“Well thank you,’ she says softly, ‘I can’t wait to read the next one.”

Max prepares to tell her that he’s actually struggling a little with that but Victoria arrives at that second, baby in her arms and Tom behind her, smiling proudly and Max’s heart feels so full for his sister’s little family.

“Do you mind if I go say hello?’ He asks, not wanting to be rude when he was the one who pulled her away from Lando to talk (even if he was doing her a favour).

“Of course not,’ Dilara replies, kissing Max on the cheek before adding, ‘You owe me a proper dance later though.”

Max rolls his eyes but nods anyway, hoping he can maybe get a few more beers in his system before then to lessen the embarrassment. He makes his way over to Victoria, greeting her with a hug and taking the baby out of her arms as she goes to get a drink.

“Good evening little madam,’ he says, tapping her nose gently with a soft fingertip, ‘Have you been a good girl?”

“Of course she has,’ Victoria says in a slightly sarcastic voice, peering around Max’s shoulder with her apple juice in hand, ‘she never wakes up crying in the middle of the night, do you? Or scream and throw your toys around, right?”

“So you take just after your mummy then?’ Max says and Victoria slaps him lightly on the arm but they’re both grinning.

“Have you seen dad yet?’ Max asks and she nods.

Jos is staying in Holland over the festive period and although Max threw out a few noncommittal dates in the new year to meet up, they both know how difficult it can be to schedule a social life around attempting to write a half-decent novel.

“Managed to see him just before we left to come here,’ Victoria says, taking the baby back and placing her head on her shoulder, ‘Seems in good shape. His new girlfriend is nice.”

Max nods and the pair of them look out at the rest of the party, contemplating the past few years of trying to figure out where they now stand as a family. It’s strange that it’s easier for the pair of them to see their parents being happy apart from each other rather than apathetic in a crumbling marriage but Max will wrestle his way through the whole spectrum of uncomfortable emotions to keep his mother happy.

“I think she’ll be good for him,’ Victoria says quietly but there’s a fond smile on her face, ‘Doesn’t seem like she’ll take anybody’s shit.”

“That’s just what I need, more sassy women in my life,’ Max quips with a smile and Victoria rolls her eyes.

“You are insufferable,’ she says but she leans up and presses a kiss against his cheek anyway, ‘I need to go and mingle with mum’s guests so stay out of trouble.”

“Don’t I always?’ He asks but the look his sister gives him obviously means he doesn’t.

He makes his way through the party, greeting his friends he hasn’t seen for a while and grabbing a drink from the makeshift bar on the dining room table before making his way to the kitchen.

“Oo, have you come to help?’ His mother asks with a grin, placing the tray of mince pies she was carrying on the counter top and coming over to kiss his cheek.

“Only if you want me to burn this kitchen down by mistake,’ he says and she rolls her eyes.

“You sure know how to get out of something, don’t you my darling son,’ she says affectionately and Max grins widely before she adds, ‘By the way, I forgot to tell you earlier but something arrived for you today.”

“Oh?’ Max asks curiously, putting down his beer as Sophie takes something out of a cupboard by the door.

“Yes, I completely forgot to tell you about it earlier but maybe it’s a Christmas present,’ She says, handing him the rectangular package wrapped in simple brown paper and covered in stamps, ‘It looks like it’s come from Australia.”

Max’s head shoots up from where he’s been considering the parcel and he meets his mother’s knowing look. She sighs and pushes the package towards his chest. She wants to say something, Max can feel it and he gives her a small nod as if to say ‘go ahead’.

“I know you loved him Max,’ she says, placing her hands on his shoulders and Max bites his lip, not needing to clarify who they’re talking about, ‘And I will never, ever love you less than I do based on who _you_ love.”

Max looks up at her, four years worth of bottled emotions wanting to break through the surface of his skin but he keeps quiet, expecting she has something else to say. He’s seen it before in her eyes, the hint of this conversation but he’s never felt ready to have it, trying to move on and grow before assessing his actions and dissecting his feelings.

“You’ve grown so much, I’m so proud of you,’ she continues, ‘And…I know your heart was broken but it’s these things that make us stronger, make us realise we can do more than we ever thought we could. We get back up again, we re-learn how to be ourselves and one day, we can begin to love again.”

She trails off after that and all Max can do is pull his mother into his arms, the package still clasped tightly between his fingers. They stand still for a minute, embracing in the kitchen until Max pulls away, hastily wiping the tears threatening to fall from his eyes on his sleeve.

“Thanks mum,’ he says, looking down at the parcel so he doesn’t have to look into her eyes (he knows it’ll set off the tears again).

“No problem,’ she says before pausing, ‘you can open it now if you promise to be back down to socialise.”

All Max can do in return is nod and he practically sprints up the stairs, taking them two at a time before he reaches his bedroom once again and swiftly shuts the door. Hardly breathing, he rips the paper off and eyes the book he’s left with in his hands with awe.

‘A Summer in Bergamo by Daniel Ricciardo’ is the title in raised, glossy type over an illustration of the hill-side Bergamo Alta towering above the new town in pastel shades of salmon and teal. He opens it and a postcard falls out. With shaking hands, Max leans down to pick it off the floor, dropping it once more before it’s finally safely between his fingers. On the front is a photo of a kangaroo wearing a cork hat and Max lets out a strangled laugh at the image before flipping it over to read the scrawled text.

‘Dear Maxy

They say write what you know so here it is. Thank you for inspiring me. I don’t think I’ll ever be a good writer but I hope that maybe one day I’ll be as a good a person as you. Make sure you finish that second book, I read the first and thought it was great.

Love

Dan x’

Max laughs out loud again at the note but somehow, it comes out a little more watery than before. Regarding the book again, he turns to the inside page. ‘I can’t wait to read your stories’ it says in neat italics, followed by another handwritten note.

‘Maybe if I sign this, in the future it’ll be worth something D x’.

Max laughs a third time, shaking his head. That Summer feels like a lifetime ago now but he allows himself to bask in one moment of nostalgia, to revel in the feeling of being loved and heartbroken at the same moment in time. He looks through the shared bathroom to Dan’s room and allows himself to feel that moment of pain once more as if it’s fresh in his mind.

He feels all the tears he’d shed over Dan as if they’re flowing from his eyes all at once. He hears the empty silence he left behind, as if even when Dan was still his presence was loud. He sees himself hunched over Dan’s bed, hands twisted in the sheets as he begged his heart to stop aching for someone he couldn’t keep.

Once the echo of loneliness has flooded his veins, Max exhales, letting it leave his body. He smiles one last time at the empty bedroom, devoid of any real personality now, before gently placing the book on his own nightstand and walking away to rejoin the party, a hopeful lightness in his heart and a weight off of his shoulders.

As Dan once said, fate brings people together for a reason and maybe their story isn’t over just yet.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it folks! Hope you enjoyed this story. I didn't want to make the ending quite as devastating as Call Me By Your Name but I hope I did this all justice. If you enjoyed it (or want to suggest sequel ideas haha) please leave a comment or some kudos. Stay safe and thank you once again for reading!


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